


The Worst Possible Thing to Happen to Someone

by LiseranThistle



Category: Powerpuff Girls
Genre: Again, I have not planned at all, M/M, This fic is literally coming straight from the top of my head, but I did edit the shit out of it, i did not think i would make something like this at all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-03-28 11:18:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13902900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiseranThistle/pseuds/LiseranThistle
Summary: “Well you can’t really blame me though, can you? I mean, you were thinking philosophically about the apocalypse like some kind of douche with a blog.” He said, chuckling. He walked up to get a view himself, albeit minus the philosophical quips about mother nature.“Yeah, I guess that part was a little Reddit-y. But it IS the end of the world. Kind of.” he said. He stretched his arms over his head. “No one is in this town but a couple hundred people.” He said. “And now I’m calling it a town. It used to be a fucking city.” Brick nodded. He kicked a piece of loose debris off the roof.“Yeah, things have kind of gone to shit, huh?” he said.





	1. Getting thrown through a wall, and other forms of affection.

If you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing Townsville at night, then you are a very lucky person. Firstly, you’re alive. Secondly, you’re not being hunted down. Those are the only real upsides to living in Townsville. The tops of the buildings and the streets below are rotted, and bursting with vines and debris from the buildings that once stood a top them. The trees are terrifying creatures, not mobile or breathing, but huge and encasing. Their branches have grown like arms on a child, reaching for anything. The sky, the ground, people trying to run. Nature has turned its back on everything, Human and Animal alike. Think of this hell as mother natures way of getting back at everyone. She is vengeful of the humans for cutting and poisoning her, and for the animals for pissing and using her in vile ways.

Boomer thinks that mother nature has a right to be angry. But he does think this whole outcome is a bit extreme. Standing atop the very building that gives him the view of Townsville few are lucky to have, he thinks about how the earth has inevitably screwed them all over. What’s the worst thing that’s happened? The diseased food or the killer plants? No, both of those things, though very deserving of a title befitting “Most fucked up thing to ever happen to you in an apocalypse” is nowhere near the worst thing the Earth has done to humanity. The worst was turning their dead against them. Letting them rise and shamble across deserted streets, like a set in some cheesy, terrible movie. Making people watch as they were killed and eaten by their own family members, or complete strangers for whom they have no relation to. Yes, truly turning their dead against them was the worst thing the Earth had ever done to them. When the entire planet has literally decided to turn its back on you, and do the worst fucking thing it could ever do (defying all known laws of biology and geoscience to do so, mind you) what else is there to do but sit around and think philosophically about the end of the world, like a complete douche? I mean, seriously Boomer what kind of-

“Will you stop that.” Boomer said, exasperated. He turned around, and looked at his brother for the tenth time that day with an ungrateful stare. “Stop narrating in my mind. And I am NOT ungrateful.” Brick decided to stop before it got too meta; he didn’t want to have to narrate for the narrator. So he made room for the actual narrator to step in, and continue the story from whatever high perch they watched them from. “Okay, you’re still kind of doing it, and you failed. It’s already gotten kinda meta, dude.” Oh. Shit.

“Well you can’t really blame me though, can you? I mean, you were thinking philosophically about the apocalypse like some kind of douche with a blog.” He said, chuckling. He walked up to get a view himself, albeit minus the philosophical quips about mother nature.

“Yeah, I guess that part was a little Reddit-y. But it IS the end of the world. Kind of.” he said. He stretched his arms over his head. “No one is in this town but a couple hundred people.” He said. “And now I’m calling it a town. It used to be a fucking city.” Brick nodded. He kicked a piece of loose debris off the roof.

“Yeah, things have kind of gone to shit, huh?” he said. Boomer turned to leave, and yawned.

“Well, what’s done is done. Zombies, killer plants, toxic Earth. Who cares anymore.” he said. Damn, that was pretty nihilistic, and very concerning. Boomer are you okay? Like seriously, I’d expect more edge from a butter knife than from-

“You’re doing it again, and I don’t appreciate it.” Boomer said, walking to the roof door. Brick turned back to the skyline, and then smirked to himself. The world had ended, and everything else about their little family had stayed the absolute same. It probably wasn’t gonna stay that way, though. Brick remembered Blossom telling him stories like this one always had some kind of traumatizing bullshit happen in the middle of all the happy bullshit. For “Plot reasons” or some stupid shit like that.

As he turned to leave, his back to the edge of the roof, he felt his jacket flare up in a sudden gust of wind that shot up the side of the building. When he turned, he saw the faint after image of a streak of red, already fading by the time his senses had settled on what was happening. Strange streak of red...sudden gust of wind...please tell me there’s someone flying over head, ‘cause that would just make my fucking day. He thought. He looked up, a little wary, only to find that whatever narrator was telling this story really liked fucking with mood.

The first thing Brick noticed about him was his eyes. They were red. Not bloodshot, are even dark and mysterious red. You know, the kind you see on those vampires in T.V posters? Or the kind they mix into Red Velvet cake? It was one of those obnoxious reds, the type that made you think “This can’t possibly be red. It has to be vermillion or some shit, ‘cause it’s trying to hard to be bright.” He had auburn hair, terrible freckles, and he had to be a foot shorter than Brick was. His clothing could’ve used work too, but he would let Butch handle those specifics when he told him later. Brick walked back to the edge, looked straight up, and stared with a tired expression.

“I have absolutely no idea who the fuck thought it was a good idea to add some new guy to the story, but let me tell you, despite being lazy as fuck-” he began to rant. The guy floating in the air, all the while creepily staring at him, raised a hand.

“What the hell are you talking about? I’M not the new guy. You are.” he said. He had a way higher voice than Brick thought he was gonna have. That was definitely not the voice Brick thought was gonna come out of THAT body. “Are...Are you narrating in my head?” The guy asked, rather confused and a little creeped out. Honestly, Brick had no idea why he should be the one being creeped out. Brick was down here being ogled like a goddamn Picasso, and he wasn’t saying shit, now was he? “What the fuck? Stop. How are you doing that?” He asked, still rather insipid. But Brick decided to stop, because, again- The meta. “So...you’re name is Brick?” He asked, floating a little lower. Great, my neck was about to snap.

“Okay, normally people don’t do that to me.” Brick said, referring to his curious reaction to the narration. The guy looked surprised.

“What, narrate people’s thoughts like some guy with a god complex?” he asked.

Brick coughed. “I don’t have a god complex. I’m an atheist…” he said.

There was silence on both sides for a very “this is fucking weird, I just wanted to ask why the hell you’re even here” long silence.

“Okay seriously, what the fuck are you doing here?” the guy asked. Brick was gonna have to get his name soon, because calling him “The Guy” was a little weird. “My name’s Blake.” Blake said. Man, that’s kind of a douchey name. “Yeah well it’s way better than something stupid like Brick. Seriously, who the fuck named you?” Brick coughed again.

“I- I did.” he said, stuttering. There was more awkward silence. “So...why are you....?”

“I live here, dense fuck.” Blake said, harshly.

“Yeah I kinda got that from the whole ‘what the fuck are you doing here’ attitude. I mean why are you in this city. I’ve never known another...uh...flyer before.” Brick said. “Who made you?”

“That’s none of your business. What I wanna know is what you’re doing on top of my house. This city is my city. I live here, I watch over it. Always have.” Blake said. Brick was starting to get annoyed now. People insulting him was never something that bothered him. He was a pretty tough guy when it came to insults like “dense fuck”. But damn if he wasn’t feeling dense now.

“Wha-?” he began, before being interrupted. The roof door crashed open, and Butch bursted through it completely out of breath. He looked at Brick with a panicked look.

“Brick, there’s these two douchebags in the living room, and they-” he looked up at Blake. “Who...who the fuck is this? There’s three of them?” he asked, confused beyond belief.

Brick looked back at Blake, an eyebrow raised. “There’s three of you?” he asked. Blake looked at him, exasperatedly.

“Yes. AND WE FUCKING LIVE HERE!” he said, completely giving up on explanations. Brick just shook his head. Goddamnit. Bloss always was on point with those predictions. Plot Reasons, indeed.

“I know for a fact you don’t live here.” Brick said, seriously. “I’ve lived in this apartment since before The End, I know this place is mine because my baby pictures are in the fucking attic.”

Blake landed roughly on the roof, making Brick take a few steps back. “So are mine. And you’re gonna leave, or I’m going to move you.” he said. Butch came up to both of them.

“Okay this is stupid. Both of us are claiming the same thing, someone has to be fucking wrong. And yet..” he said. Brick crossed his arms, completely done with the tiny, little shit.

“I’m not gonna go anywhere.” Brick said, finally. “And you couldn’t move me even if you wanted to.”

And then Brick got thrown through a wall, and fell down one floor in the apartment. He landed in the hallway, his arm slung over the rail of one of the stairs, and his mind completely rattled. The only thing he saw before he completely blacked out was a streak of green, and an annoyingly bright vermillion red.  
**…..**

 

**12 minutes before Brick got thrown through a fucking wall**

 

Butch looked in the fridge, and slammed it shut with a pang of annoyance. They had a generator to run the basic needs of the house, but no food. Sooner or later, Butch was just gonna have to start doing all of the food looting himself, because Brick and Boomer were clearly too lazy to even go out and replenish basic needs. He stood up straight, after having leaned in to get a view of the fridge, and turned around to lounge on the couch for a few minutes.

“Wow. Really, Butchy, that’s how you’re gonna play it?” Butch turned around, looking for the source of the voice. It clearly wasn’t Brick’s narration trick he liked to play. Unless he could change his voice completely now. “Up here, asswipe. God, first you skimp out on your own problems and blame them on your brothers, and now you’re hallucinating voices.” Butch looked up to find a pair of bright green eyes peering down at him from the ceiling. There was a boy he had never seen before, sitting perfectly on the ceiling, looking at him as if he were the strange one.

“What the hell…? Who are you?!” Butch asked, startled. “And what the hell are you doing in my house?”

The boy chuckled, and landed on his feet. He stood up straight, and uncomfortably close. “I think you’ve got it wrong, mister.” He said, in a very sweet voice. “I live here. Not you.” Boomer came down the stairs completely oblivious to the shit storm happening below and upstairs on the roof. Boomer caught one glimpse of the green eyed boy next to Butch, and just shrugged.

“We get visitors all the way out here?” he asked, nonchalantly. Butch shot him an angry glare.

“Dumbass, we’ve been broken into. And this jackass says he lives here.” Butch pointed at him. The boy laughed, louder this time. Despite how nice it sounded it deeply disturbed Butch.

“Thanks, I always thought my laugh was cute too.” He said. He turned to Boomer with a look of absolute relief. “Thank god you’re here. This one’s kind of slow, but I’ve been told you’re one of the smarter ones.” he said.

Boomer nodded. “Hey thanks.” he then went to the fridge for a drink only to find it was empty. He cursed. “I thought you guys were supposed to get more food? What happened?” he asked, annoyed. Butch couldn’t believe this shit.

“We have a fucking intruder in our home, and all you care about is your missing beer and gatorade?!” Butch went up behind him, and yanked him by the back of his shirt, turning him around. “Where the hell is Brick, he’ll figure this out. BRICK!” he yelled for his brother. But instead of his brother’s voice, he heard the sound of the toilet flushing. You’ve gotta be shitting me. There’s two of these fuckers?! Butch thought.

“That’s a very rude word to call someone.” The boy said, his arms crossed. He was very mad about being forgotten in the middle like this. He thought the cute, blue eyed one would at least talk some sense into his brother.

“Wow, smart and cute. This day is actually starting to pick up a little.” Boomer said. Butch ignored him, and the annoying green boy’s narration trick. The bathroom door opened, and out came the second intruder. A blonde one, with bright blue eyes, both of which were glued to his phone. “Hey Break, when are we gonna get a new light in there, I can’t shit in the dark anymore.” He said. He looked up, and slowly assessed the situation. And then, with all of the class of a man who just shat in the dark said “We get visitors all the way out here?” Butch was about to lose it.

“Both of you need to get the fuck out of our house now.” He said seriously. The blonde one, not his brother mind you, raised his hands defensively.

“Woah, slow down. Your house? Last I checked, I lived here.” He said. “You need to leave. Well the blonde one can stay, actually.”

“Wha- wait how come he gets to stay?” Butch asked. Then he shook his head slightly to clear his head. “No that doesn’t matter. Just-get out we live here. End of discussion.” The blonde one crossed his arms.

“Yeah, I’m not going anywhere. I LIVE HERE.” he said, finally. The green one crossed his arms as well, in a rather mocking way.

“I’m not going anywhere either. Besides, I already know the lay out of the house.” He said, confidently.

Butch scoffed. “Yeah, because you broke into it, idiot.” He pointed to the door. “Out. Now.” Boomer got in the middle of it. Which, now that he looks back on it, was probably the worst idea he had ever had. Ever.

“Look guys, we can’t both be right. I say we all just settle down, and talk this over like civilized gentlemen.” He said.

“You’re only saying that because they’re both kissasses.” Butch said harshly. The green one looked offended.

“How dare you? I am NOT a kissass.” he said. He looked a little peeved now, which only further pushed Butch on.

“You totally are. If you could kiss Boomer’s feet like a king you would, if it meant not getting your ass kicked.” Butch said. He smirked. And then, suddenly he was moving of his own free will out of the way of an energy blast. A blue one. And it threw Boomer straight through the fucking wall.

Butch took one look at the gaping hole that led to the outside of their apartment, and winced when he thought how much it must hurt to land 5 stories down. The blonde one looked apologetic. “Shit, I didn’t mean to hit the cute one!” he said. Always with the cute shit. Butch thought bitterly, before zipping to the stairs, and running to the roof. Only to be met with the revelation that there was a third one. And then, as you already know, getting hit with the more shocking site of seeing one of his brothers getting thrown through another fucking wall.

 **…...**  
This story starts with the story development of a cheap action movie, and will end with all of the grace of a cheap romantic comedy. That is to say, flat on its fucking face with its pants down. I hope that you, the reader, can deal with the sometimes outlandish antics and stupid quips from these characters. I know I, as the narrator, will have to deal with all of the idiocy I read before me.

So, bookmark your place, and get ready to indulge in what may be:

 

**THE WORST POSSIBLE THING TO HAPPEN TO SOMEONE.**   
_(Chapter 1 of something we will all regret later)_

I really hope you’re ready.


	2. Zombie's are Fucking Terrifying, But I've also wanted to see one. Weird Right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah, I’ve always kinda wanted to see a real zombie.” Then he winced. “That’s pretty fucked up though, right? Like saying you want to see someone’s dead body.” Boomer nodded. 
> 
> “Yeah, I guess that is pretty fucked up, but hey what are you gonna do?” Boomer headed for the door. “I’m leaving anyway. There’s no food. And no gatorade. And also, I’m out of booze.”  
> “Booze is a very important asset to have during the end of the world.” Bash said, and they both headed outside, following after Breaker.

About 5 minutes after Boomer got thrown through a fucking wall

 

There are a lot of things wrong with society, Boomer thinks. One such oddity would have to be the flippant mood swings the crowd has whenever their idol does something horrifically wrong. Another would be the terrible aches they have to amend for their shitty behaviour in the first place. Sitting on a couch with two strangers, one of which is completely beside himself with grief, while another is still shocked that anything like this could have possibly happened to him is not the best thing to wake up to after being knocked out. And thrown through a wall. Bash, the blonde one who had the wonderful honor of both shitting in his toilet, and then blasting him through plaster and brick, was gently dabbing at the cuts Boomer had gotten from, you know, being thrown through a fucking wall.

“I honestly don’t know why you’re so angry about it.” Breaker, the green one, whined. He was a very whiny person. Boomer was starting to learn that just by sitting next to the kid. “I’m just going to ignore those flippant thoughts, and continue on with the questioning.” He said, dismissing Boomer’s own inner thoughts. It’s kind of not fair, he thought. I can’t even think bad stuff about anyone without him or Brick knowing. Mind reading and thought projection was a power that Brick had, and that he abused to the fullest extent. You’d think, hey being able to project my own thoughts into other’s minds seems pretty fucking rad, I could do so much with it. I could sway arguments to my side, or drive my enemies insane. But nope. Brick uses it to fucking narrate people’s lives. He used to just do it to random people on the street. Before The End, he was widely known as the trickster Ruff, simply for projecting terrible thoughts into other people’s heads and making them sometime blurt out things that they probably shouldn’t have said in the first place.

“What do you mean ‘questions’?” Boomer asked. “I thought I was the one questioning you two?” Breaker shook his head. 

“Nope. I don’t remember it going that way at all.” He said. Boomer rolled his eyes. 

“I strictly remember starting this conversation by saying ‘Okay, now it’s time you answer my questions.’” Boomer stood up, making Bash drop literally everything onto the floor. He cursed, but the other two ignored him, and left him to clean it up himself. Bash muttered “Assholes” at them, before sulking off to find a towel or something like it. Boomer gestured toward Breaker, who gave him a very piteous look. “Now look, you guys seem cool, and I’m sure that once Brick and Butch get back-” 

“Those guys are your brothers right?” Breaker interrupted him. “They seem like idiots.” Boomer rolled his eyes, and continued. 

“When they get back,” he continued. “I’m sure we can all come to an agreement about who lives where.” Breaker stood up as well, and walked to the door. 

“Yeah, well that sounds nice on paper, but waiting for morons is an essential part I have crossed off my to do list.” He opened the front door, and gave a petty mock salute. “So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go do something else.” Bash came back into the room the same time Breaker shot off down the apartment hallway, leaving behind a green streak of light. 

“Yeah, so I’m with Break on this one. Waiting for your brothers to stop fighting seems boring.” Bash said. He pointed at Boomer. “Plus, you seem a little better than before. So I guess there’s no real reason to stay behind right?” Boomer shrugged. 

“I guess. But I am gonna have to fix that wall you broke.” Boomer said. 

“Technically you broke the wall, but who cares. Lets go do something . They got anything to do around here?” Bash asked, walking to the door. 

“Uh…” Boomer was not sure how to explain this to someone, usually people knew immediately when the world ended. “There’s nothing to do, and there won’t be for awhile now. In case you haven’t seen them, the dead are up and walking.” Bash gave him a wide eyed look. 

“What? The dead? What about the aliens?” Bash asked. To which Boomer gave a resolute “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“There aren’t any fucking aliens. Just zombies. And killer plants.” Boomer said. Bash looked incredibly confused, but also uncomfortable. Boomer was not gonna waste any time trying to figure out what the hell Bash was talking about, and decided to just ignore it. “Though killing zombies is pretty fun, I guess.” Bash looked excited then. 

“Yeah, I’ve always kinda wanted to see a real zombie.” Then he winced. “That’s pretty fucked up though, right? Like saying you want to see someone’s dead body.” Boomer nodded. 

“Yeah, I guess that is pretty fucked up, but hey what are you gonna do?” Boomer headed for the door. “I’m leaving anyway. There’s no food. And no gatorade. And also, I’m out of booze.”  
“Booze is a very important asset to have during the end of the world.” Bash said, and they both headed outside, following after Breaker.

…………

About 12 minutes after Brick got thrown through a wall

 

The downside to today was probably hitting the ground about 13 feet away from your own house because some douche with your own powers threw you off of it. What sucks even more is having that same douche stand over you, ready to punch you while you’re down. And to think, I was making fun of Boomer for his stupid rants about the end of the world. 

Blake stood over Brick looking as if someone pissed in his cheerios, and stole his puppies. “You really should think about holding that mental tongue of yours, asshole.” Blaze’s hand lit up, a glowing red aura as bright as it was hot engulfed his entire arm. 

“Well gee, that’s a new one.” Brick said. He was still on his back, in the middle of the goddamned street where anyone could see them, and he was at least pretty sure his ankle was broken. “What boss did you have to beat to get that powerup?” And then Blaze punched him in the gut so hard his back dented the already cracked cement sidewalk. Brick groaned. 

“You’re not dead yet.” Blake observed. Brick smirked, and chuckled amidst a fit of coughing. 

“Yeah ain’t that the darndest thing?” He attempted to sit up, and Blake let him, probably convinced he was too weak to fight him. Brick was able to stand, though barely. He wobbled on his feet, a little weak. Damn, he throws a punch. Blake didn’t answer that. It was the first time he hadn’t read his mind, or at least commented on his thoughts. “So, how are we doing this, hot head? Tournament style, or turn based?” He asked. He laughed at Blake’s confused stare. He stopped wobbling, stood up straight, and looked that little shit straight in the eye. Before Blake could move, Brick returned the favor by punching him in the stomach, and lifting him off his feet. Blake was sent flying upward into the air, and was rammed into the side of a building. 

Blake was sent through the wall of a nearby shop. He opened his eyes slowly, shocked he had not been knocked out by the force. Brick was already by the hole’s entrance, and smirking. “I’m thinking turn-based. It’s more fun that way.” Blake got to his feet, groggily. His arm returned to it’s red glare, and he stood up straighter. Brick stretched his arms. He couldn’t do that glowing arm thing, but he could still punch the shit out of him. How hard could that be? Brick flew at him, throwing another punch, but Blake blocked it, knocking his arm aside, and sending a hit at his stomach. The hit wasn’t as hard as when he threw him off the roof, but it was still pretty rough. Brick recovered quickly, floating in the air for only a second, before sending another fist at Blakes face, and this one landed. Blake went sprawling on the floor, and dented the wooden floorboard. He flew up, pointed a finger at him, and a blast was sent at Brick so fast he barely had time to dodge it. It singed the drawstrings of his jacket, leaving little red ashes on the ground, and burning another hole in the shops wall behind him. 

“Woah, now come on that’s just not fair.” Brick said. “How come you get super lasers?” Blake did not look amused at all. 

“Shut up, and fight me.” He said, before sending another shot from his hand. Brick dodged it this time, keeping his eyes locked on Blake. 

“Say, just tell me one thing.” Brick said. “Who made you? You never really told me.”

 

“I never meant to.” Blake flew at Brick, throwing a punch at his face, missed, and sent another for his side and missed that one too. Brick was an excellent dodger. He was also a fast learner. Brick knocked a fist away from his face and continued on with his straight faced questions. 

“Was it Him? Did he make you?” Brick asked. “He gave you a hell of an upgrade from me, then.” Brick tilted his head away from Blakes fist. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Shut the hell up.” Blake said. He was purely focused on the fight, but Brick was past that. He was too busy wondering about the mystery of who Blake was. They kept going on like this, Blake swinging and only occasionally landing a hit, and Brick dodging as best as he could while still badgering on with his obnoxious questions.

“So Him didn’t make you?” Brick asked, again for clarity. 

“It’s ‘He didn’t make you.’ God, I know I haven’t hit you that hard.” Blake said, as he sent another blast Bricks way. Every so often, Brick would check the sky for any sign of Butch or Boomer, but it was strangely empty. Man he must have really decked Butch harder than me… Or Butch was just getting soft. Brick held up a hand in surrender. 

“Alright, let’s stop here. Besides, you look like you’re about to keel over and die if you throw one more punch.” Brick said. “And honestly, it just wouldn’t feel right if I won on a technicality.” Blake gritted his teeth angrily. Good God, he is a stupid, vapid man, he thought. Brick rolled his eyes. He walked over to where the destroyed shop was, and sat on the busted curb, mindful of the plants growing through the cracks on the sidewalk. He patted the ground next to him. Blake stood where he was, still glaring. Man you don’t let anything go, huh? Brick thought. He knew Blake was listening. Blake walked closer, and stood in front of Brick with his arms crossed. “No I don’t.” He said, with an air of finality. “I don’t like spies in my house. I already know who sent you. Pretending otherwise is just stu-”

“Hold on,” Brick said. “Spies? We’re not spi-” Blake’s hand began to glow again, and Brick shot up, his hands in front. “Woah woah! Hold on, jesus christ.” Blake’s hand didn’t stop glowing, but he didn’t immediately try to kick his ass so...Progress…? “Just...let’s talk. What kind of house do you live in?” Brick asked. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Blake asked, dangerously close to pile driving him into the fucking ground again. 

“Well obviously we come from way different...lifestyles. You don’t know about the zombies, do you?” Brick asked. Judging from the look Blake gave him, he obviously had not. “You also don’t know about the killer plants, I see.” Brick pointed at a vine that had slowly wrapped itself around Blaze’s leg. Blaze yanked his leg free, shouting in fear. 

“What…?” Blaze looked down at the vine horror, and disgust. “What the hell kind of place is this? What happened to Citysville?” Brick stood up, stretched, and laid a hand on Blaze’s shoulder. Brick smirked. 

“I don’t know what hell Citysville is, but that’s not where you are. And you got another vine down there.” Blaze kicked his leg free, and shook Brick’s hand off of his shoulder. “This is Townsville. It’s a small place, gotten even smaller since the outbreak and the killer plants, but it’s home.” Blaze looked at Brick, and for the first time since Brick had met him, he had finally calmed down. 

“This isn’t Citysville?” He asked in a quiet voice. Brick just shook his head. Blake stood there for almost a minute, with what Brick could only guess is contemplation, and then shot off into the sky somewhere else. Brick did not follow.  
……

 

 

About 5 minutes after Butch followed Blake and Brick off the roof  
(And was also P’wnd in his own way, by being smacked literally out of the sky like a goddamned  
bug.)

Butch lay on the ground, blurry eyed, and completely unable to tell up from down. What he was able to do however, was track his brothers. If Brick could project his thoughts, then Butch could follow people’s thoughts. It’s very hard, and kind of complicated to explain but it’s like radar in his head of sorts. Brick was somewhere else. Near the house it seems. Butch was the one who was displaced. He blinked his eyes, trying desperately to blink the dizziness from his eyes, and sat up. The sky overhead was beginning to purple, the day was ending soon. That was bad by itself, but what was even worse was the implication that they had wasted the entire day fighting with intruders.

He stood up, and floated a few inches off the ground, testing his strength. He heard the soft whir of someone passing over head. Thinking it was Brick, he looked up, but it was only the Green one. Butch scowled. Great, now they’re out wrecking the town, probably. He shot off to follow Breaker, he followed his childish thoughts for a few miles, before he decided to take a break on a nearby building. Breaker, of Break as Butch heard his brother call him earlier, hadn’t destroyed anything. Yet. Butch was still increasingly wary of this one seeing how he had mind powers just like Brick. Butch landed on the building’s roof behind him, and cleared his throat. Break turned his head and looked at Butch with a bored expression on his face. 

“Oh. It’s you.” He said, disdainfully. “I’m not even in my own house now, so what do you want?” Butch shook his head in disbelief. 

“It’s not-” 

“My house, I know. I just…” Break took a deep breath. “This really isn’t my town. I’ve been flying for over a minute, roving for anyone I might know, someone who’s just hiding.” He shook his head, sadly. “If this place isn’t Citysville, then what the hell is it?” Butch stood next to his crouched figure. 

“It’s Townsville. And it is in dire need of fixing up.” Butch said. “So, you’re from some place called Citysville, huh? Never heard of it.”Breaker shrugged. 

“I hadn’t heard of Townsville yet my...or your house seems to be here.” Breaker said. Butch felt kind of bad now. Maybe it was just a genuine mistake. 

“Hey, look we can help you get to this town. I’m sure we can hotwire a car or-” Butch began. Breaker raised a hand.

“Save it.” He said. “We’ll figure this out somehow. We don’t need help.” Butch looked reluctant, but was nonetheless relieved. 

“Wow, your thoughts from before seem SO genuine now.” Breaker smirked. He stood up, and for the first time, Butch didn’t think he was that bad. Breaker stretched. “So...I’m bored and there’s nothing to do. Wanna go somewhere?” He asked, casually. 

“There’s nowhere to go.” Butch said. Breaker rubbed his hands devilishly.

“Sure there is. We just gotta find it.” He said. “I saw a zombie earlier. That sounds cool, huh?” Butch laughed.

“Zombies are fucking terrifying.” He said, with a smile on his face. Breaker returned it with an even bigger smile of his own. 

“But they’re not boring, right?” 

The two of them went in search of zombies and fun.  
……..  
The Most Terrible Thing to Ever happen:  
Kind of, sort of, liking the guy who broke into your house, and read your mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all of the people who left kudos. Maybe next time I can get a...dare I say it...Comment? Please comment.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my name is Liseran, and I have written fics before, but not really something quite like this. I am a little nervous as to how people may perceive it, but I hope you all actually like it. Thoughts and critiscm would be very much appreciated. I would like it a lot if people told me what they thought of the work. 
> 
> Cheers, and thanks if you read all of that. it was like 7 pages in google docs, and I'm sorry if I was the cause of your procrastination.


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